A Game of Murder
by everythingnancydrew
Summary: A murder at an abandoned mansion leaves amateur detective Nancy Drew searching for a serial killer. Visit agameofmurder. for more information.


A flash of lightning lit up the stormy sky, illuminating the twisted branches lining Montresor Road. Michail Karalis looked back at the passenger riding in his cab.

"You sure you want to be coming out here, sir? It's awful stormy."

"Keep going," his passenger replied.

"What did you say your name was?" Karalis asked. "I don't want to be held responsible if anything happens to you."

"I didn't say my name. But it's Chander Burnette. And don't worry about anything happening to me."

"Whatever you say sir. Where did you say you were headed?"

"Do you always ask so many damn questions?" Burnette snapped. After a moment of silence Burnette sighed. "I'm sorry, I know you're just trying to do your job, just like I'm trying to do mine. I'm going to the old Kohler place; it's the last one on this dead end street. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to ride in silence for the rest of the time."

"Got it," Karalis said. He wondered why someone would be going out there near midnight, and on a stormy night no less. He'd heard the Kohler place had been abandoned years ago and was in terrible condition now. What could be of interest there?

The yellow cab pulled up in front of a rusting gate. When the lightning flashed, you could see an imposing brick house with lots of now broken windows. Karalis could see that this house had once been beautiful.

His passenger unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned forward. "Here's double your fee since it's so late at night and I'm sure I imposed."

Karalis took the money, deciding not to argue. "I'm just doing my job. Do you want me to wait here for you?"

"No, no, don't worry about that. I'll be able to get a ride back with someone. Thanks for your trouble."

"It's no problem, sir. Call again if you ever need anything."

"I may just do that," Burnette said. He opened the door of the cab and stepped out into the wild rain. He started up the steps to the gate.

Michail Karalis looked back at him just as a flash of lightning filled the sky. He saw a determined look on Burnette's face. _I hope the guy will be able to get a ride home_, he thought. _This weather tonight's pretty nasty._

Chandler Burnette opened the gate. He heard a distinct creaking sound amidst all the thunder. He headed up the walkway and looked up at the Kohler mansion. He remembered how when he was a kid it had been a beautiful house and that his parents had occasionally gone to parties and cotillions there. However, the house had fallen into disrepair. _Sad,_ he thought. _But it's kind of a metaphor for life. We start out young and free, but then eventually become old, out of shape and die. That's what happened to this house. It died._

While he was thinking, he had made his way into the house. He headed up the twisting stairs to where he knew who he was meeting would be waiting.

"There you are," the figure said. "I've been waiting for you."

"The cab driver was taking it slow. The roads are pretty slick, if you hadn't noticed."

"I noticed. But enough with the small talk. You know why you're here, don't you?"

"I'm here because I found a note on my desk today from you telling me to meet you here," Burnette said.

"And you didn't tell anyone about our meeting, did you?"

Burnette sighed. "I didn't, just like you told me in your note."

"And you brought the note with you like I asked?"

"I know how to follow directions!" Burnette bellowed.

"I'll take that as a yes," the figure smirked. "Give it to me."

"Why?" asked Burnette, handing it over anyway.

"Because you. . . well, you won't be needing it anymore."

"What do you mean?" Burnette asked, becoming more suspicious every second. At that moment, lightning flashed through the windowpanes and he could see his former friend, now an opponent, pulling a gun out of their jacket pocket.

Burnette turned and began to run towards the steps. He knew he had to get out of there.

"Not so fast," his enemy said. Somehow they had made their way in front of him and the gun was once again pointed at him. The opponent drew closer and closer. Burnette couldn't move; his legs were like jelly and ice at the same time. He felt the cool metal of the gun barrel being held against his head.

A multitude of thoughts went through his head. The last thing he thought of was is daughter. He would never get to see her beautiful face again.

"Bon voyage," his killer said as they pulled the trigger.

Chandler Burnette slumped to the floor and lay there motionless. The killer knelt on the floor next to him and placed an ivory chess piece in his hand. Then, they stood up, looked at the body on the floor, and whispered a single word. "Checkmate."


End file.
